


The Window

by Omnomsauruswrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-05-31 05:18:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19419250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnomsauruswrites/pseuds/Omnomsauruswrites
Summary: You only have so many windows before your chance is gone.





	1. The Meeting

His lips slotted over hers. She tasted like the fruity, berry cocktail she had been sipping. His tongue touched her plump lips and she opened her mouth to him. He groaned, as their tongues dueled. He felt her fingers claw at his chest and electricity pulsed through his veins that maybe just maybe he had gotten it right this time. That was until she broke away, bright blue eyes full of confusion as she stared at him. “What are you doing?” she accused, stepping away. “What was that?” 

Her delicate hand covered her lips and he reached a hand towards her, trying to pull her back. She shook her head. “Darce,” he croaked. 

His prosthetic touched her wrist, tugging her back. He bent down to softly kiss her again. “Babydoll…” he whispered, looking at her safely in her arms, feeling the weight of her there, how perfect she felt. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered. 

“Taking my window,” he muttered, cupping her neck and peering into her eyes.

“Bucky…” 

“Don’t go to D.C.,” he requested tenderly, eyes searching hers, pleading her. “Please… Darce…” 

Her eyes searched his. “DARCY!” someone called. “Come here, you gotta see this!” 

“Darce..” he tried again, as she pulled away. Her hand slowly skimmed his chest, before turning to the person. “Darce…” 

She turned her head and he saw the tears collecting on her lashes. “I got to…” she choked on a silent sob, before swallowing. “I got to go.”

She twisted back around and towards the exit, this time not looking back. 

—————-

He remembered that margarita night that he bumped into her. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulder, as she held two margaritas in her hands, sloshing them on to her maxi dress. She had growled at him, “Watch it buddy.” 

“So sorry,” he said to her, his steel blue eyes landing on her brighter ones. “Didn’t mean to…”

His prosthetic moved to hold her elbow before pulling away. Her eyes landed on the movement before flicking up to face. The anger flamed out. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t…” she began. Her head nodded to her friend in the corner. “We’re dealing with a break-up and a bad midterm, so I may have snapped when I didn’t mean to. Is all good.” 

He nodded before his eyes landed back on his girlfriend who was in the other corner, head tilted watching his interaction with the brunette. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your friend,” he said, moving around her. 

She nodded and smiled. “Next time watch out for us petite girls.” 

—————-

It would be three months until he saw her again. She was dressed in a shorter, silver dress, high heels, her hair curled. His eyes couldn’t look away as he saw her pressed against the wall. An eager man had her pinned there. He was talking a mile a minute and Bucky could see how desperate she was to get away. Could see how she needed a save. 

His date was in the other room, so he knew he could save her. He put two feet in front of the other, walking up to her and swinging an arm around her shoulders. “Hi sweetheart,” he greeted, kissing her cheek. 

Her face turned to look at him, confusion in her eyes, but yet some recognition of who he was. “Honey!” she said slightly higher than was proper, her arm around his waist. “You said you couldn’t make it.” 

“Got out of study early,” he explained, eyes never leaving hers. “Thought I’d come see my girl.” 

She giggled. “How sweet of you.” 

The guy next to her cleared his throat. His eyes fell to the man “Oh, hey, man. Thanks for taking care of my girl for me,” he said. “I’m Bucky.” 

Bucky reached his hand out in greeting. The other man looked at it, rolled his eyes and walked away. “Sooooo your name is Bucky,” the woman in his arms teased. “That is who my knight in shining army is.”

His eyes landed on her, her lips smirking. “Yes, ma’am. Sir Barnes at your service.” 

She giggled, “Lady Darcy Lewis.”

He lifted and kissed her hand. “Nice to officially meet you, my lady.” 

She laughed and it was music to his ears. A grin broke out on his face. “Now I’ll expect you with every awkward social scenario that I find myself in,” she teased. 

“We’ll need a signal,” he advised. “Something that seems natural.” 

Her eyebrow rose. “You going to follow me around saving me all the time?”

“Sounds like an entertaining time.” 

His arm was still swung around her shoulders felt natural. It felt normal. It didn’t feel stiff or awkward. It was as if…. 

“Bucky?” A voice broke in. 

Bucky’s arm dropped from her and he turned to his date. He internally cursed; right his date, he reminded himself. He had a date. A date. 

“Hi, Debbie,” Darcy greeted. “Bucky here was just saving me from an awkward scenario.” 

“That’s sweet of him,” Debbie muttered unhappy that Bucky’s attention wasn’t on her. 

“I’ll let you get back to your date,” she told Bucky, stepping away. “Thanks for the save. Next time hopefully I won’t need it.” 

“Anytime, doll.”

—————

“So what’s the signal,” a voice in front of him said. His eyes peered up from his criminology book to see Darcy in front of him. “Has to be subtle but effective. Like if you are on the other side of the room, you have to see it and know it.” 

“Hi,” he greeted. 

She beamed at him. “Hi.” There was a pause. “I’ve been thinking maybe it’s a tap to the leg or an arm cross or something.” 

“Been thinking about this a lot?” he asked.

“I was bored,” she explained, her lips wrapping around the straw of her drink. “So what are your ideas, sir?” 

He chuckled. “Well, you’re right, has to be subtle and easily seen.”

She makes a no really face and he smiles. This girl was a ball buster and she’d break his heart if he wasn’t careful. She leaned on her elbows, staring directly at him. “Needs to be a sign that could be done with either hand.” 

“And with your prosthetic,” she butted in. His eyes went wide. No one took his arm into consideration but this woman, this woman did. “Is there anything it can’t do?”

“What?” He stuttered out. 

“Your prosthetic, is there anything it can’t do?” she repeated, eyes wide and open. “I mean it can get wet. You won’t lose a finger getting a girl off cause that’s one emergency trip you don’t want.” 

He made a choking sound at her joke. No one ever inquired about his arm. And he meant no one. Not even his friends. “What?!” she asked, a blush spreading on her cheeks. 

“No one….” he stuttered, again. “No one’s ever…” 

“Joked about your arm?” She tilted her head at him. “Really?” 

He shook his head no. “Huh,” she muttered. “Maybe you do have piss poor choice in women. And friends.” 

“Excuse me?” He squinted at her not used to such boldness. 

“I mean, margarita night, you had my classmate from Bio, who goes out on a new date every night. God knows what VDs she has…” 

“VDs?” he broke in, but that didn’t stop her rambling. 

“Then there’s Debbie. Not that I don’t like my roommate but most know she goes out with anyone with two legs. She’s not picky as long as there’s dinner and the prospect of a good fuck, male or female. Now, even with the arm, I suspect you know your way around downtown. However, maybe try not to get all the girls who just want you for your hot body, Barnes.” 

“VDs?” he repeated. “No one uses that term anymore, doll.” 

“It’s more effective than STIs, Barnes. Some of those diseases are definitely not infections. So let’s not sugar coat it and I hope you are wrapping it up with as much action as you are getting. You don’t need crabs with that arm.” 

“How did we even get onto my sex life?” he asked. 

“We were talking about your poor choice in women,” she explained, rolling her eyes. 

“I never said…” 

“You didn’t have to. It’s blatantly obvious. So back to the first matter, is there anything the hand can’t do?” 

He looked down at his left hand that was on the table, dark grey and metal. It seemed dark and ominous in the light. “It’s like a working hand,” he responded, looking up at her. 

“Good. Great. That solves that. So subtle, we gotta be subtle.”


	2. Losing Time

“Hi, doll,” a kiss to the cheek. 

She internally sighed. This was the difficult part, trying not to let her heart beat out of her chest at his close proximity. His metal arm slung tightly around her waist. “Hi, Buck,” she breathed. 

“So any prospects?” he asked, squeezing her. 

She shook her head no and took a swig of her drink. What she wanted to say, there’s no prospects with you around. 

This was their new Thursday night ritual, drinks at the college bar together and sometimes one of them would get lucky. But for the most part, the night always ended the same, Bucky walking Darcy back to her apartment arm-in-arm. It was killing her, but she knew she didn’t stand a chance. Bucky never saw her like that. Ever. 

His flesh hand pushed hair off her cheek. Her blue eyes caught his steel ones; to any passerby might think they were a couple and this is why Thursday nights needed to stop. “Buck?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” he answered after taking a swig of his beer. 

“When’s the last time you went out on a date?” 

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and his metal hand loosened. “What?” 

“When’s the last time you went out on a date?” she repeated. 

“What’s that gotta do with anything?” 

“Well, you know spending so much time…” 

He interrupted, “That a bad thing?” 

“I’m just saying. People might assume…” 

Her eyes glanced away from his to the patrons in the bar. No one was taking notice of them. “Might assume…” he pushed. 

She took a sip of her drink before turning back to him. “That we are dating. Might assume that we are dating, Buck,” she completed, eyes searching his. 

“That such a bad thing? Would that be such a bad thing?” he accused. 

“Bucky…” she whispered, eyes pleading. 

“Is dating a guy like me so bad?” he pushed. 

“That’s not…” She stuttered. “That’s not what I’m saying at all and you know it.” 

She could feel the tears collecting on her lashes. “You know that’s not….” 

“Do I?” He threw back at her, chugging his beer and slamming it on the table. He pushed himself out of the booth. 

“Buck…” she called after him, but he didn’t turn back and she felt her heartbreak. 

—————-

It had been three months of silence from Bucky and it killed her. He refused to take her calls and avoided her in social settings with her friends. She had gotten glances of him but nothing else. Her heart had bled dry.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She sighed, she had to put a smile on for Peggy’s engagement party. She couldn’t be a downer; she plastered a smile on her face. She could do this; she could be a good bridesmaid. She could see Bucky for the first time in months and not let his ghosting effect her because that’s what she had to do. 

She smoothed out her dress and made her way to the bar down the street. It was a quick walk and didn’t let her mind wander, as she pushed open the door. Smiles greeted her, as she moved past the small crowd at the front towards Peggy and… Her heart stopped. There was Bucky with his arm around Natasha, his ex, right next to Steve, right next to Peggy. 

She felt sweaty palms and part of her wanted to bolt, but then Peggy’s eyes met hers and she knew she was trapped. She tried to smile at her friend but knew it was a tell. Peggy arched her eyebrow and Darcy shook her head, as she came forward. “There’s my bridesmaid,” Peggy exclaimed, wrapping her up in a big hug. 

Darcy hugged back, as Peggy whispered in her ear. “She says anything to you love, I’ll killer.”

Darcy giggled at her friend, before smiling over at Steve. “If you hadn’t put a ring on it Steve, I just might have,” she teased to her friend. 

The taller man smiled at her, replying, “Good thing I did, huh?” 

“For you, not for me.” Her eyes landed on Bucky as soon as she finished the sentence. She nodded. “Buck.” 

“Dar…”

“I need a drink. I’ll be right back,” she cut in, not letting him even finish her name before turning and walking to the bar. 

She tapped her clutch on it, waiting for the bartender. She refused to turn around and look at her small group. She needed a drink to steel her nerves, before she could return and play good bridesmaid. 

She ordered two tequila shots and they soon appeared in front of her. She downed one in seconds. “Christ, Darce,” the voice said next to her. 

“Fuck off, Barnes,” she muttered, downing the second. 

She then ordered a vodka cranberry, opening a tab. 

“Look, Darce…” he began. 

She whipped around, drink in hand. “No, I get it. You’re with Nat, again. You didn’t want to tell me that you got back together. No explanation needed, Barnes.”

“Stop calling me, Barnes!” he growled. 

“Barnes, Barnes, Barnes!” she taunted, getting up in his face, noses touching. “Barnes.” 

He sneered, blue eyes dark. She smiled back, bringing the straw of her drink to her lips, before turning back to the group. Peggy looked like she was two-seconds from punching Bucky for getting in Darcy’s space, since Steve had his hand wrapped around her wrist. She threw her hair over her shoulder, as she walked away. 

\-------------

Peggy introduced her to Ian an hour later and she had spent the night talking with him in a dark corner of the bar. Darcy had felt eyes on her all night. She didn’t need to look up or search them out to know who they were, but she didn’t want to engage. 

Bucky had blocked her, cut her out and she wasn’t going to forgive him easily. She wasn’t going to run back to him. He couldn’t just look at her with those blue eyes and fix everything. So instead of communicating with him, she talked with Ian, who made her laugh, made her smile. The weight of the strained friendship seemed to ease while talking to Ian and one night turned into several. Then it turned into something much different, Ian proposed a month in and Darcy too flabbergasted said yes. The ring was gigantic, too big for her small fingers. She often wondered if it was a blood diamond, as she stared at her hand. 

She told Peggy first, who told Steve, who told Bucky. He had left a few voicemails, but she had ignored them, giving him a taste of his own medicine. Despite the ghosting, she couldn’t out right avoid him as she was still Peggy’s bridesmaid. 

Peggy had asked her to come to a cake tasting, explaining it was one of the best baker’s in Brooklyn. And Darcy didn’t turn down cake. 

So on the designated day, she stood outside of the bakery, waiting for Peggy. She had arrived early and she scrolled her phone, as she waited. “Darcy!” a voice called. 

She looked up from her phone to see Peggy, Steve and Bucky. She internally cringed. She had hoped to put off seeing Bucky for longer, but she knew bridesmaid duties may prevent that. “Hi, Peggy,” she greeted, waving her hand. 

Peggy enveloped her in a hug. “No, Ian?” she asked. 

“He had a work thing,” Darcy answered, trying not to look at Bucky’s reaction. 

“A work thing,” she heard mumbled. 

She didn’t react, just squeezed Peggy’s arms, as she pulled back, eyes landing on Steve then Bucky. “Steve. Barnes.” 

“Darcy,” Steve answered. 

“Darce,” Bucky greeted, eyes dark, posture tense. 

“Why don’t we eat cake?” Peggy encouraged, sensing the tension between the pair. 

“We’ll be in, in a minute, Peg,” Bucky answered, giving Steve a glance. 

Steve rolled his eyes at his friend and took Peggy’s hand. “Come on, hun. Let’s go see what this place has to offer.”

“But…” she began. 

“Let’s let them talk, doll,” Steve encouraged, as he opened the door. 

Darcy stood there, crossing her arms and looking nowhere near Bucky. 

“So I don’t get a courtesy call?” Bucky asked, when they were alone. 

Darcy shifted her eyes to her former friend. “Didn’t realize we were still friends, Barnes.” 

“Darce,” he warned, posture straightening. 

She rolled her eyes. “That may work on Nat, but that doesn’t work on me, hot stuff.”

“What?” he asked, eyes widening. “Do you think…. Oh my god you do!” 

She stepped back at his words, he hadn’t even fully asked the question but had figured it out. “Darce, I came with Nat that night….” he began. 

“I don’t care,” she interrupted. “You made it blatantly obvious that you two are together. No need to beat a dead horse, Barnes.”

“For fuck’s sake stop calling me Barnes!” he shouted, stepping closer. “Use my name, Darcy, for christ’s sake!” 

“No,” she grounded out, her arms falling. 

He encroached into her personal space, his prosthetic lifting then falling. “Darce, please,” he choked out. “What you think isn’t true. Please, doll, stop forcing me out. Please let me explain. Please, baby doll. Please. I can’t…” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. 

“What?” he asked, a quiver in his voice. 

“You know why.” 

“Darce….”

“It doesn’t matter because I’m marrying Ian.” 

“Darce…” 

She saw the tears gather on his dark lashes. She saw the pain etched into his chiseled face. She swallowed down the feeling of wanting to comfort him and turned, walking into the bakery, without looking back. 

\---------

She moved to unlock Ian’s apartment, arms full of groceries, as she heard voices. “She has no idea, mum,” a male voice said. 

She tilted her head as she heard Ian’s voice talk into the phone. Her eyebrows knitted together as she listened in. 

“She thinks I’m head over heels for her; it’ll make the green card process so much easier, make it believable,” he expanded. “They won’t question anything, then you know we can bring the business over here. In seven to ten years, we will divorce. None the wiser.” 

Her hand dropped the bag that she had been holding. The impact caused the bottle of wine in the bag to shatter. She closed her eyes, hearing footsteps. “Darce?” Ian called. 

She opened her eyes to see him across the room. Her body shook with rage and anger. “What the ACTUAL fuck?!” she exclaimed. “USING ME FOR A FUCKING GREEN CARD!!!!!” 

She watched him flinch at her outburst. “I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone. She didn’t blink or move. She felt her heart beating erratically in her chest. “Sweetheart…”

“Don’t sweetheart me, you fucking dipshit,” she seethed. “This was relationship was built on a FUCKING lie on, on….” 

“Do you really think, someone would marry you?” he threw out.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, her other hand dropping the other bag. It slammed just as hard and you heard more glass shatter. 

“Oh come on, sweetheart. I saw you that night, all heartbroken over what’s his face, you were easy kill. All I had to do was convince you that I love you and I did just that,” he explained with a glint in his eyes. 

She felt tears gather in her eyes, before she growled. “Go to fucking hell!” 

She slammed the door and ran down the street. Her phone started ringing as she stood on the New York sidewalk, trying to figure out her next move. She didn’t hesitate to answer it. “Bucky!” she choked out.


	3. Healing

He heard tears in her voice when she answered her phone with his actual name. “Darce?!” he asked. 

“Bucky…” she choked out. “Please come get me.” 

“Where are you, doll?” 

“Ian’s place.” 

His heart dropped, yet fluttered. Here was his chance and he wasn’t going to waste it. “I’m grabbing a cab, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can, hold tight for me, OK?” 

“OK,” she whispered. 

Bucky raced out the door, hailing a taxi and giving the address that Steve had given him weeks ago, when he wanted to bash the man’s head in for taking his girl. His prosthetic hand tapped on his left knee, as the nervous energy coursed through him. 

It took fifteen minutes to reach her and he threw open the door, when he saw her standing outside, throwing cash at the taxi driver. “Darce,” he called to her. 

Her always bright blue eyes, now dull, flew to him. He rushed to her and enveloped her. She grasped at his shirt, holding onto him. “Bucky,” she sobbed. 

“I’m here, doll,” he soothed. “I’m here.” 

She hiccuped and clung to him. His lips met her forehead, as he held her. He calmed her with sweet words and her sobbing stopped, but she didn’t let go of his shirt. “Let’s take you home,” he suggested. 

“I don’t…” she began, choking on the words. “I don’t… have one.” 

He pushed hair off her forehead. “What?” he asked. 

“Well…. I mean,” she explained. “For two more weeks, I have a home, but…..” 

“You’ll just room with me then,” he said. 

“What?” she asked, her eyes lifting to his. 

His hand went to her cheek. “You’ll just move in with me. I got an extra room now that Steve’s marrying Peggy. You’ll just take it.” 

“Bucky…” she started. 

“Darce, whatever your going to say won’t mean a thing. Just say thank you.” 

A small smile crossed her face, as she lifted up on her tippie-toes, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Bucky.” 

\---------------

It was tense at first, the months of not talking had left their strain. They walked on eggshells, not really avoiding but they didn’t discuss the fight or Nat or Ian or the months apart. Her stuff began to blend with his and it began to affect his dreams more so than before to where one night he went out to a bar to pick up a girl. 

Darcy had made it clear despite everything that she had no interest in him. They shared the occassional meal, watched a tv show or two, but for the most part she spent nights in her room. He read the message loud and clear, which led him to this moment of sneaking in the blonde back into their apartment without Darcy knowing. Except it didn’t go as planned, as he pushed open the door, he noticed the living room door open and his blue eyes landed on Darcy looking at him. Her mouth shaped an ‘o’ before she got up off the couch and shuffled to her bedroom. 

He closed his eyes. “Who was that?” the blonde asked. 

“That was my roommate,” he answered. 

“Yeah, sure?” 

“What?” he asked quizzically, looking at the woman still in the hallway. 

“She looked at you like a jilted lover,” she explained. “I mean… I would too if I were your roommate. I mean look at you, all hot over here except for the arm.”

“The arm?” His blues met her greens. 

“You know the arm. It’s cool and all but…” 

“But what?” he growled. 

“I mean, it comes with baggage and well, that’s not what I’m looking for.” 

He rubbed his face with his flesh hand. “You should go.” 

“What?” she asked, sounding perplexed. 

“You should go,” he reiterated. “If you can’t handle the arm or baggage, you should go.”

She rolled her eyes before turning and walking away. “Darce,” he called. 

Silence permeated the space. He tried again, “Darce. Doll?” 

Again, silence. 

“Darcy, there is no way you are asleep.”

Her bedroom door opened, as she stood in the shadows. “Where’s the blonde?” she asked. 

“She couldn’t handle the arm,” he explained. “Come out here.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

“Darce.” 

“Barnes.” 

“For fuck’s sake are we back to this?” He moved towards her, letting the alcohol give him courage. “Darce, you know I hate that.” 

“Why I do it,” her voice laced with bitterness. 

He reached her doorway in a few strides, her bright blue eyes shining in the shadows. Her hair fell on her cheek and he moved it away with his flesh hand. “Darce,” he whispered. “Why are you hiding?” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’ve been here for two months and we’ve barely spent any time together,” he said, thumb swiping her soft cheek. “You always hole up in this room.”

His eyes left hers to look in the dark room. He could only see shadows, but previous glimpses allowed him to see how colorful it was. 

“I don’t,” she shuttered out. 

His hand tilted up her face to peer into her eyes. “You have. I know I fucked up our friendship but I want you here, doll. Wouldn’t have asked anyone else to be my roommate.” 

He watched her eyes and they softened a little. “You should get sleep,” she nudged him. 

He shook his head, refusing to ruin the moment or to stop touching her because she was letting him learn how soft she was. He lifted his prosthetic up to her other check. She closed her eyes and he smiled. She never shyed away from his metal arm, often grabbed it and held it in public. He had missed that. She had never been afraid of him. “Darce…” he began, trying to gain her attention. Her eyes opened, staring right at him. “I missed you.” 

Her own hands went to cup his cheeks and it was his turn to close his eyes and savor the feeling of her touch. “Missed you, too, Buck.” 

Her thumbs swiped at his cheeks and he didn’t want to let this moment go, but she dropped her hands seconds later and he missed her warmth. “Darce…” 

“You need sleep, Buck,” she instructed, stepping back. The moment finally over. 

He nodded, turning and moving towards his room. He looked back and saw her watching him before slipping back inside. Maybe his window hadn’t closed yet. 

\-------------------------------

The morning light streamed into the kitchen as Bucky flipped pancakes on the stove. They may have met in the middle last night but he wanted to be a lasting impact, so here he was making Darcy breakfast. Something he had done pre fight, something that she loved. The coffee was percolating and he knew the smell would rouse her. It always did. 

_“What’s that?” he asked._

_Blue eyes looked down at the 52 oz cup in her hand. “Coffee?” she responded, taking a sip._

_His eyebrows reached his hairline. “Darcy, that’s how you have a heart attack!” he exclaimed, reaching for the cup._

_She jerked backwards and away from him, her eyes narrowing. “Stay away, Tin Man,” she growled._

_“Darce…” he warned, offering his metal hand. Her eyes became slits before she tipped back the cup, taking a long sip. “Darcy Elizabeth…”_

_She tilted it again, and his metal hand grabbed it, taking it out of her grasp. “Hey!” she shouted, hands trying to snag it back, as he moved it out of her reach. “That’s not fair! BUCKY! Give me back my coffee!”_

_“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked, still holding the cup up high, other hand outstretched and holding her back._

_She huffed. “That’s not the….”_

_“That’s totally the point.”_

_“I’ve got LSATs.”_

A door opening and shutting broke him out of his memory and his eyes flew to see a rumpled Darcy shuffling out of her bedroom. A small smile graced his lips, as he heard her muttering to herself. “Morning, doll,” he greeted. 

He heard her make a noise, as she grabbed her floral “Fresh out of Fucks” mug, pouring herself some coffee. Her hair was messy and disheveled, her pajama pants and top askew, but to him it was the perfect look for her. One that he cherished because most women never looked like that in front of him, but not Darcy, never Darcy. She had proven what the mug said, she was out of fucks and didn’t care what he saw her like. 

“Are those pancakes?” she asked after her third sip of coffee, bright blue eyes on him. 

“Not just any pancakes, doll.” 

Her lips tilted in a smile, as she came closer to the stove, standing right next to him. “Peanut butter banana…” she lifted her eyes to his, “Buck…” 

He moved so that he could face her, see the morning light on her face. “I know I fucked up Darce, but I want to make it up to you.”

“With pancakes?” she asked, her head tilting to look at him. 

“With pancakes. With coffee. With chocolate. I want us back.” 

She nodded and moved her hand to squeeze his metal one. “You’ve always got me, Buck.” 

He wanted to kiss her in that moment, her eyes staring into his. He wanted to cup her cheek and pull her to him and confess everything he ever felt, but he knew it was too soon. He had to make up for the strain before he tried to cross that bridge. So for right now it would be pancakes and coffee and being her roommate. 

\---------------------

“So the wedding breakfast…” Peggy began. 

Bucky watched as Darcy’s forehead crinkled and eyebrows pinched together. “Wait, what? Wedding breakfast?” Darcy asked in confusion, as her eyes held on to her friends. “You’re getting married at 4 p.m.” 

Peggy sighed. “In Britain, the meal is called a wedding breakfast.” 

“But it’s not,” Darcy argued. “It’s not even close to breakfast. It’s not even close to brunch, Peg. There is no way that makes sense.” 

Bucky sat next to her knowing that this rant could go on forever and rolled his eyes at Steve. “Don’t think, I didn’t see that Buck-o!” 

“Darcy, it’s just how we do the wedding reception,” Peggy tried to explain, her hands crossed in her lap, her back straight. 

“Well, it’s ludicrious. Madness.” 

“It’s to symbolize Steve and I starting a new day,” Peggy explained. “Our first meal as newlyweds.” 

“I mean that’s sweet and all, but even that. You don’t start a new day until the next day. It’s like you all don’t understand time at all,” Darcy ranted. Bucky snorted, knowing she wasn’t done. Peggy’s eyes cut to his and he tried not to laugh again. “This isn’t funny, Bucky.”

“Of course not. There’s nothing funny about two women fighting over the term wedding breakfast,” he teased, his blue eyes full of mirth. His body turned towards her. “Not funny at all.” 

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Darcy chastised. 

“Darcy Elizabeth Lewis,” he teased, a smirk on his lips. 

She glared at him and he wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re impossible,” she huffed. 

“Oh yes, I’m the impossible one. That’s me. Not you, who’s arguing over the term wedding breakfast.” 

“It doesn’t make sense,” she exclaimed, her hand hitting the table and making the silverware clatter on the table. 

“Darcy!” Peggy chastised. 

Darcy’s cheeks turned pink and Bucky started chuckling. 

Steve finally piped in, “Are you sure, you two aren’t the ones getting married?”


	4. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scabs aren't fully healed yet. 
> 
> If you have spotify, listen to chill dinner, as thats what I wrote this to.

She heard words, gibberish words, as she was tugged from sleep. Her blue eyes blinked open, staring at her ceiling. She heard it again. This time it was clearer, it was her name and no repeated over and over again.

Bucky. 

She pushed her sheets off of her before scrambling to his room. His head thrashed back and forth on the pillow, sweat covering his body, whimpers and moans falling from his lips. She knew he suffered from nightmares and terrors following the incident, but had never witnessed one. She had only heard about them in his therapy sessions as she held his hand. She was his grounding point during the sessions, holding his hand when needed and baring witness to his struggles because he trusted her. 

She stood watching him two feet from his bedroom door, paralyzed. She knew you couldn’t just wake someone from a night terror, but he looked so wounded in the bed. She croaked out his name, but it fell silently in the room, as a scream ripped from him. 

She shuffled closer, her hand hovering over his dark tresses. “Bucky, honey,” she tried again. “Sweetheart, it’s ok. You’re safe. Bucky, baby, you aren’t there.” 

The sounds softened, but still fell from his lips. She took the risk and brushed the hair off of his face, as she tried to soothe him with her voice. “It’s ok, Bucky. You’re in New York with me. You’re not there. You’re here with me, Darcy.” 

She climbed onto the bed on his right side. “It’s ok, baby,” she repeated, fingers tracing his cheekbone. “You’re safe, Bucky.” 

He jerked up suddenly and her hand hovered at his back. “Darce….” he gasped. 

“I’m here, Bucky,” she mollified, her fingertips touching his spine, a grounding point. 

“Sorry,” he choked out, as his body shiver. 

She shuffled on her knees, wrapping her arms around his front, as her cheek pressed into her back. “No need for an apology,” she reassured, her lips meeting a shoulder. “We’ve all got scars.” 

His head bobbed, his body still stiff, yet hunched. They sat like that for awhile, before his hands covered hers on his chest. “Darce ...,” he hesitated, “Will you….” 

“Will, I what, Buck?” she asked softly. 

His shoulders eased with his nickname and he uncurled. His fingers gripped hers tighter. “Will you stay with me?” 

She breathed deeply, her heart skipping in her chest. He had been tearing down the wall of her heart again lately with the coffee, with the teasing, with the affectionate care he had been showing her. It was as if he was proving to her, he wasn’t going to leave that he was a solid presence in her life. And yet… yet they didn’t talk about that night or the rehearsal dinner. They didn’t talk about those scabs. They overlooked them. Could she do it now? Could she do it when he needed her the most?

“Sure, Buck.”

\------------------------

She mumbled as she was pulled back against a hard chest, strong arms keeping her in place. Her eyes fluttered, trying to remember where she was. She heard a deep breath behind her and her eyebrows knitted. 

She hadn’t gone out last night. She hadn’t brought anyone home. She was confused until…

“Darce,” the masculine voice breathed. 

Bucky. 

She squeezed her eyes. Right, she had come to his rescue during a night terror and he had asked her to stay. She had helped him get back in bed and to sleep. She had curled up against his back, their fingers intertwined, as his body lulled back to a relaxed state. 

And sometime in the middle of the night, it had changed to him cradling her, his warmth enveloping her. She had never felt so safe nor so protected. It was as if they had been like this forever, that they were made to be together, two puzzle pieces. 

She felt his chest rise and fall against her back, his thumb tracing the back of her hand. The soften movement made her realize that he was indeed awake and possibly enjoying the togetherness they were enduring. “Buck,” she whispered. 

She felt him nuzzle her hair and heard his inhale. “Never thought, you’d say that again,” he confessed quietly, pulling her tighter against him. 

He tangled their legs together and she realized how pretzel like they had become. “Buck,” she repeated a little louder this time. 

“I’m here, doll,” he reassured, a kiss to her clothed shoulder. “I’m here.” 

Her hands squeezed his and his thumb stopped. Her eyes opened realizing that maybe he didn’t know she was awake, but he didn’t pull away. The warm bubble they had created in the middle of the night seemed to be ready to burst. “Darce?” he asked. 

“Yeah, Buck?” 

“Thanks,” he exhaled simply.

“For what?”

“For this. For not running away.” 

She untangled their legs and turned to face him. Blue eyes met blue. Her fingers stroked his cheek again. “Why would I run?” 

“The terrors…” His eyes grew cloudy. She knew it had been a sticking point in his break-up with Nat, but he had never divulged much about it. “Not everyone can…”

“I’m not Nat,” she replied, her voice edgy. 

“That’s not….” he paused, his eyes roaming her face and his hands holding her waist. “I’ve never compared you to her ever, doll. You… you’ve accepted me at every turn. You’ve kicked my ass in every turn and refuse to let me fall into the dark place.” 

“Buck….” she breathed, licking her lips. 

She watched his eyes fall to them. There was electricity and tension in the air. How had that happened, she asked herself. How had everything else fallen away? 

His large hands squeezed her waist. “You’re …..” 

He was cut off with the loud ring of the doorbell. His blue eyes left hers and flew to his bedroom. The doorbell rang again and he cursed. Her eyes searched his face, trying to figure out what he was going to say. “I’ll get it,” she said, moving out of his arms. 

“Darce,” he mumbled, his flesh hand reaching for her. 

She looked back at his tousled hair, his bare chest and it was a look that would be seared into her memory forever. The picture made it seem as if they were lovers and butterflies exploded in her stomach. “Don’t answer it,” he pleaded. 

The ring went off again and she shook her head, walking towards the front of the apartment. She smothered down her hair and pulled down her shirt before unlocking and opening the door. Her blue eyes landed on green. The butterflies immediately died and her heart twisted. 

“Barnes,” she called back, turning to see him in his bedroom doorway and pushing open the door fully. “Nat’s here.” 

\---------------------------

“So Steve told me you comforted Bucky during a nightmare,” Peggy stated as she looked at a blue and red vase. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Darcy sputtered, looking at the star book ends on display.

“You heard me,” she said, her brown eyes staring straight into Darcy’s blue. 

“We were talking wedding registry,” Darcy back pedaled, eyes flitting around the store refusing to look at her friend. 

Bucky and her hadn’t talked in the past two weeks since Nat showed up at their apartment to gather him for a meeting. She had eaten meals in her room and stayed there except to wash dishes and to use the bathroom. It was if she didn’t really exist there anymore. Not like Bucky hadn’t tried to get her to come out, leaving her coffee in the mornings before he left for the station or her favorite flowers on the dining room table. However, she always left them, leaving him to see the cold coffee in the evenings or the flowers wilting. He tried to talk to her through her door every night, but she never answered, never took the bait. 

“I changed the subject,” Peggy explained, her eyes never leaving Darcy’s form. 

Darcy turned to her friend. “How long have you known?” she asked. 

“Two weeks.” 

Darcy sighed. Of course, Bucky told Steve, which meant Steve told Peggy, which meant she had been waiting for Darcy to mention it. And when she hadn’t, it meant Peggy had to throw it out and the most inopportune time. 

“What’s there to say, Peg?” she inquired, moving past her friend. 

“The one thing you won’t say,” she reminded. “That you are both two idiots in love.” 

“I’m not…” she argued. 

“You’ve been in love with him, since he saved you from that horrible man at the party,” Peggy cut her off, her voice level yet firm. “You hate the damsel in distress story, but you loved Bucky for saving you.” 

“I do not love him,” she battled. 

Peggy’s manicured eyebrow shot up, daring Darcy to continue. 

“I haven’t had enough sleep or alcohol to deal with this,” she muttered to herself, throwing up her hands and staring at the ceiling. “What fresh hell is this?” 

“What?” Peggy queried, brown eyes on blue. “Have you not been sleeping?” 

Yep, she needed alcohol cause she couldn’t possibly have this conversation sober. She shook her head. “Look, Peg, I appreciate…” 

“Nope,” she interrupted. “I’m done with the wallowing and the sad eyes at Bucky and trying to let you work it out on your own.” 

Peggy rounded on her, staring her down in the middle of the store. “That man adores you. You walk into a room and his eyes light up. And I’ve gotten the bar night story from both you and Steve and he was an idiot, but so are you. You both pushed your feelings down like they aren’t there and then when you tried to discuss them it blew up. And instead of being adults, you acted like children. Then it happened again and Bucky is trying from what Steve is telling me… but you… you won’t let him explain. I know Ian threw you for a loop and your past in foster care makes you hesitant, but Darce, sweetie, that man loves you.” 

Darcy felt her throat open and close, felt the tears on her eyelashes. She knew the way Bucky looked at her, always knew that it was more than a friendship, but she had always been too scared to even consider it. Not with his handsome face, his wit and his brain, he was a catch. Someone would snatch him up but not a lot of women could look past the arm, she found out and she often cursed them when his face fell after a date. How could they not see that he was indeed the whole package? He was the sweetest and kindest….

Peggy closed in on her and wrapped her arms around her, soothing her with hums. Darcy pushed her forehead into her friend’s shoulder. Her brain popped the image of Bucky the last time she had seen him in his boxers in his doorway, his face marked with pain and his jaw tense. She could see the tension charge through his body, the moment she said Barnes. She sobbed, “What am I going to do?”


	5. Well Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More angst cause well... I can.

“She’s not talking to me,” Bucky mentioned, a week after Nat showed up. 

“And you’ve tried?” Steve asked, a beer in his hand, watching his best friend. 

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. Of course, he had tried. He tried leaving her coffee, it was cold when he got home, left untouched. He bought tulips, again, left untouched. Every night he rapped on her door, trying to get her to at least see him. Nothing. It was as if she was a ghost. He knew she wasn’t, her shoes were often scattered around the apartment. Her perfume lingered in the air most days. He sometimes even heard her shuffling in her room. 

He didn’t know if this was worse than when he knew she might run off with Ian, ending his chance of ever telling her how he felt. 

“Have you told her?” Steve said, after some silence. 

Bucky’s eyes flew to his friends and shook his head. Steve rolled his own blue eyes. “You two are idiots,” he muttered. 

“That’s reassuring, pal,” Bucky mentioned. 

Steve took another swig of his beer before leveling his gaze on Bucky, his bright blue eyes a little dark. “Look, that girl ...,” he started. “She thinks you hung the moon, Buck. But come on you know her story. Orphaned at 15, after her parents died when she was 4 and her grandma at 15. Everyone she’s loved has left her in some tragic way. She was put-in foster system for 3 years, bounced around. She’s scared.” 

Bucky rolled the beer glass between his palms. He knew all this. She had told him, crying into his shoulder as she recanted the story. He had held her for hours later, dying to protect her from that kind of pain, wanting to take it away from her because all she ever did was give all of herself to people. He knew she was dying to be loved and cared for. 

He nodded at Steve. 

“And she’s resigned herself to the sidelines, watching you go off and date other girls. And you’ve done the same. You’ve watched her and when she hinted at you being something more than a reliever, you thought she was pointing out the bad that she was going to push you away. Instead, you caused her to run into another man’s arms and when that didn’t work out, who did she run back to?” 

“Me,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his beer. 

“You,” Steve agreed. “That girl is scared to love and lose you, whether it’s because the relationship doesn’t work out or because you are taken away tragically, she’s fucking scared. So she’s made the decision to watch from the sidelines and you’ve taken steps to get you both in the game, but then a foul or two happened. And instead of getting back in the game, you’ve let her move back to the sidelines.”

“What am I supposed to do, Steve? Force her to open the door? Go barrelling in?” he asked, slamming down his beer. 

“Didn’t think you were a coward,” Steve teased, taking a sip of his own beer. 

“I’m not, but I’m also not going to force open that door.” 

“Then you are an idiot or blind, or both. Because the woman we are talking about loves you. She goes with you to therapy sessions, helps you with your prosthetic, helped you study for the academy. She adores you and she’s not blind to it, but she’s not going to risk it. So the question is, what are you going to do before that window closes, Buck?” 

\--------------

_Her head was bent over a book in the library, as she tapped a highlighter on the table. Her hair fell like a curtain around her face, making him unable to see her eyes. “Darce?” he mumbled, his eyes never leaving her._

_“Yeah, Buck?” she replied, her eyes still focused on the paper._

_“Darce?” he repeated, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans._

_She lifted her eyes at the mention of her name a second time, her blues landing on him, a crease between her brows. “Yes, Buck?”_

_“I need a favor,” he choked out, his body rigid._

_She placed her highlighter in her textbook and closed her. He now had her full attention. “What do you need? A liver? A place to hide the body?”_

_He chuckled at her attempt to ease his uneasiness. “My therapist…” he began. “He thinks that I should have a buddy therapy session. Wanted to know ...”_

_“Sure,” she answered, cutting him off._

_“You don’t even know what he wants you to do,” he answered._

_“Doesn’t matter, I’ll do it.”_

_“Darce,” he groaned._

_“I mean does he want us to have sex? Are you really just going to sex therapy, Buck? You didn’t really lose the arm, did you? Just a ploy to get women in bed?”_

_“You’re killin’ me, doll,” he sighed, his hands coming up to the table._

_“Well, I try.”_

\---------------------

He opened the door to the apartment after two weeks of silence from her. Despite Steve’s pep talk, he hadn’t actually spoken to her. He still left her coffee that still went untouched. He had left pink roses this morning in vase, he expected to see those still on the kitchen table, as a sign that she still wasn’t speaking to him. 

But what he had been met with the night before wasn’t what he was met with today. Lights were on in the kitchen and the rose sat on the coffee table. He heard jazz music coming from the sound system. His eyes flew to the number on the apartment door, making sure he had the right one. “Darce?” he called out. 

He heard a humpf. “Darce?” he tried, again. 

“Yeah?” she replied. 

He unlaced his boots and put them by the door. His eyes landed on the roses, she had moved them. She wasn’t holed up in her room. He walked towards the sound of the mixer going in the kitchen. Her back was to him, her hair pinned up in a bun, a polka-dotted apron tied around her neck and waist. “Hey,” he greeted. 

Her head turned to look at him, her blue eyes meeting him. “Hi,” she answered, a small smile to her lips. 

“What are you doing, Darce?” he asked, moving to sit at one of the stools at the breakfast nook. 

“Cookies,” she replied, pointing to the finished ones behind him. 

He turned his body, seeing three different kinds of cookies on the table. He knew she had a tendency to stress bake but he had never seen it. He had always been on the receiving end of her baking benders. “Jeez, doll, how many are you going to make?” he teased, his eyes landing back on her. 

She huffed and used her flour-covered hand to push back her hair. “With that attitude you won’t get any.” 

He put a hand over his heart. “You wound me.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed another egg. He bit his lip as he watched her crack it and add it to the mixture she was working on. He wanted to move from the stool and wrap his arms around her like he had done in bed two weeks ago. He wished to hold her to him and confess every feeling he had for her. But something kept him rooted to the spot, watching. 

Minutes passed before he worked up the courage to say anything. “Been awhile since I’ve seen you.” 

He cringed at the words, as they felt like an accusation bursting from his lips and he knew she usually rebuked at that sort of thing. “Been busy,” she responded, her back still to him. 

“With?” he inquired.

He watched her tense and then her she curled into herself. “Got a case,” she answered. 

He knew it was a diversion. Cases never kept her from coffee or her bed. They usually meant her falling asleep on the couch with case studies spread out. He’d experienced it before at her previous apartment, picking her up and putting her to bed himself. But he didn’t want to come out and say that he knew she was avoiding him, so he trudged forward. “Important?” he asked. 

She turned to him, her apron covered in flour, as was her cheek. He wanted to brush it off with his thumb. He wanted to leave no spaces between their bodies. Her white teeth were biting her lip, a nervous tick. She blew air out of her nose. “Kinda, yeah,” she acknowledged. “Maria says the partners are looking at me and it could be my big break. They want me to take a case in D.C. middle of next week.”

“What?” He hadn’t actually thought that she had the case and if she had that it had been small. He watched her swallow and hesitate. 

“Ummm… and if the case goes well, they want me to permanently move to D.C.” 

“What?” he repeated. His mind went blank. Her leave New York, leave him. Sweat broke out on his neck and he felt his heart squeeze. He was losing her. 

“Yeah, it’s a big, federal case that is high profile. If we win, they want me in D.C. More money. All that jazz. And then you can find you know a bachelor’s pad.” 

She said it so nonchalantly, but he saw the fear and tension in her eyes. He internally cursed, the damage was worse than he thought. And not only that but his window was closing again. 

“I don’t want a bachelor pad,” he confessed in a whisper, his eyes boring into hers waiting for a reaction. Her blues showed apprehension. “What I want is you here.”

Her eyes widened and she swallowed. “Buck…” 

He stood up from the stool, carefully taking a step forward. “I want you here, Darce. I don’t want you in D.C.”

She didn’t move from her spot in the kitchen, he had to move to her and he did, leaving only a foot between them. “I want you here,” he repeated, his prosthetic landing on her hip. “And what about the wedding?” 

She peered up at him through her long lashes, her hands at her side. “I still have the time off for the wedding in a month.”

“Don’t go.” 

“Buck.” 

“I’m sorry, Darce for all of it. Don’t go,” he pleaded. 

“I already said yes.”

Well fuck.


End file.
